Taker


July 2019 
You
left nothing here.
I breathed the pillow covers in deeply,
twice,
before ripping them off the pillows
and throwing them in the wash. 
Not even your scent remains.
You came,
you took, and took, and took
and then you left taking even more with you.
You left,
and you left nothing behind.
Nothing.
You took everything that I had to give.
All I have now are these memories.